Because she had always just wanted what she wanted.
Ever since her mother had walked out on them when she was five, she’d wanted something and she’d taken it.
She had wanted Tom, pursued him heavily, married him, and now she had nothing. No job, no house, no husband, no dog.
That was one of the worst parts. Tom had kept her dog, Kate. She had cried and pleaded and argued with her lawyer, but Tom had bought the dog and he refused to relinquish her and it would have cost far too much to drag the divorce out. Losing Kate had possibly left a bigger hole in her heart than the end of her marriage. Actually, not possibly. It had. She missed her beautiful sweet Golden Retriever and how she always managed to look like she was grinning.
She did not miss Tom.
He could go fuck himself.
Or Javier.
She sighed, annoyed with herself for thinking about anything that sucked on her birthday, and sipped her mojito. “This is definitely awesome, thank you for doing this, Em. It was really sweet of you.” It was. Sloane had only been back in town four days and Emily and Becca had taken up with her like high school had just ended instead of it being twelve years since graduation. The three amigos back together. Half of the cheerleading squad at Beaver Bend Senior High.
Unlike when she was seventeen, and an entitled little bitch, Sloane had learned how to keep her mouth shut now and be grateful for her friends dragging her out on her birthday. Even though it was weird to see all of her little brother’s friends looking so grown up. In her mind, they were still fifteen and annoying little shits who kept trying to catch glimpses of her in her bikini every summer. It had been years since she’d seen any of them. Since Sullivan’s wedding to Kendra almost a full decade ago.
Her phone buzzed with a social media notification. A pic popped up of Tom and Javier kissing, looking adorable together.
Sloane wanted to die from mortification.
But then immediately felt guilty as hell to even have the flippant thought. Her sister-in-law was dead. Never to be present at something as awkward as this ever again. Awkward was alive. Awkward was nothing in the grand scheme of things. This was a picture on her phone. So what? Yes, he had cheated, which was painful. Yes, he was happier without her in his life. That stung. She hadn’t even been madly or passionately in love with Tom for the last few years. Hell, maybe she never had been. But they’d a friendship and she did miss that.
Mostly, though, she suspected it was her ego that was bruised, not her heart.
Damn it. She sipped her straw more aggressively and clicked to unfollow Tom. Moving on.
“Show time!” Becca said, pointing to the stage.
This could be interesting.
At the very least it showed promise to serve as a distraction from both her worry over her brother, and the world’s oddest thirtieth birthday. Sullivan was standing on the makeshift stage with a mic in his hand. He had apparently flatly refused to participate in this strip show, for which she was highly grateful. She could live her entire life without seeing her brother dance in his underwear. But he didn’t look good. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his hair was too long, his clothes unkempt. His son Finn appeared to be the only thing preventing Sullivan from losing it entirely the last few months, and even fatherhood seemed overwhelming to him at times.
A surge of emotion swelled in her chest. Moving back to her small hometown had definitely been the right thing to do. She was back home because there was nothing for her in Minneapolis post-divorce and this allowed her to help Sullivan with Finn. Her father had mentioned he was drinking a lot.
Her dad had done the same thing when her mother had left. But a year later, he’d gotten sober, gotten a bunch of tattoos, and opened this bar as some sort of ultimate FY to his ex-wife. O’Tooles didn’t really deal with emotion. They were all just really content to deflect and distract.
She and Sullivan both needed a reboot in their lives, though she was ahead of him in that respect. The thought made her grin. Right. She was just winning at life right here. Not.
Scanning the right of the stage, where the “dancers” were lined up, she frowned, curious. She recognized Axl, Jesse, and Brandon. They had practically all lived at the O’Toole house in high school because Liam O’Toole was well-known for having no rules after her mother moved out. Which made their house the hangout house, with Sullivan’s friends always present. But the fourth guy was a stranger to her. Tall, broad, tattooed. Muscular. Wearing a mechanic’s jumpsuit and a tool belt like nobody’s business.
She was surprised to feel instantly attracted to him. As in, she wouldn’t mind having that much man over her. And in her. The thought was startling. She hadn’t exactly been feeling sexual lately. Or sexy.
But it was like the winter of her sex life had started an instant thaw. Holy moly, the man was hot.
She leaned over and nudged Becca. “Who is that?” she asked. “The guy in the work jumpsuit.”
Becca turned and gave her a long stare before she burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You don’t know who that is?”
“No. I have no idea.” But Becca’s reaction made her frown and study him a little harder. He must have felt her eyes on him because he turned and his gaze locked with hers. She sucked in a breath. Dear God, he was sexy as hell. A strong jaw, a tidy beard, and an intensity that made her nipples instantly tighten in her cotton tank top.
Then he winked at her.
Basically, her inner thighs exploded with heat.
Forget thaw. Her girl bits had skipped spring and gone straight to scorching hot summer.
Flustered, she reached for her drink and missed, knocking it over. “Shoot!” She mopped at it with a napkin and snapped at Becca, “Well, who is it? Because I swear I’ve never seen that man in my life.” If she had, she would remember. He was a fantasy sprung to life. He was temptation to sin like she had never sinned before. He was confirmation that lust was real and she was still capable of it.